He didn't like losing. He never did lose when his opponent stuck to the rules: it was only when his opponent managed to get the big guy on his side that the man in black lost: how was he to know that the big guy was going to like the blues enough to save that soul he'd bought at the crossroads? And how could he have known that for some reason the big guy's power could even touch his own hand picked jury and take away that farmer and his fancy lawyer? He'd won most of the big ones, whenever the big guy stayed out of it: that girl's descendents are still weavin' their delicate designs (he smiled about going in drag that time). He smiled the humorless smile when he remembered hearing the shipbuilder declare that his ship was unsinkable, and the smile broadened just a bit on the thought that that was a twofer: one boast, two ships.

The man in black, despite the occasional smiles, had no sense of humor. He'd been offended by that song about the fiddler--no way he'd ever lose that contest. So he caught the writer thinking about something else when he should have been concentrating on the chain saw...it just took a little nudge, just as the iceberg had taken just a little nudge.

And now he had that greaseball pushing the envelope one more time...